Fighting Love
by Keiko Yuki
Summary: Sitting in the stands, Draco can't watch. Draco tries to fight the pull he feels toward Harry and poor Harry is left wondering: What the hell is going on? HD SLASH


Disclaimer: I don't own. You don't sue. We're all happy.

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Draco sat shivering and scowling in the Slytherin section wearing his warmest clothes. He didn't particularly like being cold. He fervently wished he'd had the sense to wear some gloves and earmuffs at least. He'd once again underestimated the weather. Usually the weather was tolerable during November but, then again, the weather had been wonky all year.

"Hey Draco," Pansy purred from her spot next to him. She didn't seem to be cold at all; in fact, she currently had a healthy blush on her cheeks. She also looked happy… too happy. He leaned away from her with a suspicious look. It was this behavior that usually warned him to be cautious. When she got that look on her face, it usually meant trouble for him.

"What is it?" He spat, an irritated look on his pale face. She knew he didn't like the cold, how could she be cruel to him at a time like this?

She leaned forward so that she could speak into his ear. Her lips were practically touching his cold flesh as she spoke. "Doesn't Potter look sexy out there?" She leaned back to her place and out of his personal space. Her blue eyes purposefully scanned the pitch and then landed on the player she'd been pointing out. She licked her lips and hummed with sexual delight as she watched Potter weave expertly through the air.

Disturbed as he was by Pansy's overt displays of affection, Draco couldn't deny that the Gryffindor was attractive. He also had noticed that he looked especially delicious in his Quidditch uniform. His skin began to warm at the thought of being able to peal back the sweat-soaked material from the Gryffindor's golden skin… His thoughts rapidly progressed to a more sexual level before he could catch himself.

Disturbed by his dramatic change in thought processes, Draco narrowed his eyes at Pansy. "How dare you…" His statement was cut off by a sudden roar from the crowd around them. Both Pansy and Draco's eyes scanned the sky to see what had disturbed the spectators.

Potter was still in the air, some fifty yards up in the air and was dangling precariously off his broom. A collective gasp and subsequent murmur engulfed the entire stand of students. Luna Lovegood and Professor McGonagall's argument over the microphone blended in with the jeers and catcalls from the crowd.

"What happened?!" Draco demanded with a voice full of nervousness. How had he missed Potter almost falling off his broom? His heart pounded uncomfortably in his chest. He didn't know why it was pounding so. He held a hand to his chest in wonder as he gaped at Potter's swinging form. His heart slowed slightly back to normal as the Gryffindor managed to seat himself atop his broom once more.

"Potter got attacked by a Bludger." Blaise snickered from his seat one row above Draco. He leaned back in his seat with a disappointed sigh. "Pity he out-maneuvered it. I'd have liked to see his arm broken at least. It was funny last time with Lockhart!" Blaise guffawed at his own private joke and didn't notice that Draco had only been listening to him with half an ear.

"Yeah, pity." Draco muttered, his eyes not leaving the floating Gryffindor. Potter's face was red with rage and Draco's heart fluttered in a different way as he watched. His hand, still at his chest, fisted his robes and he grimaced as he broke his gaze. Keeping his emotions in check was becoming a real challenge these days.

"I can't watch this," he said as he began to blush a deep red. He kept his eyes downcast as he stood up, praying that he could leave before either of his friends could notice.

"Where're you going, Draco?" Pansy's voice called to him as he made his way past the other seated Slytherins.

Although he'd heard her call for him, he ignored her. It was the same when Blaise called to him. He pretended he couldn't hear them and kept walking away from the stands. Draco clenched his frozen fingers at his sides as he willed his heart to return to normal and his mind to pretend he still hated Potter.

He marched, silently fuming, toward the dungeons. His footsteps echoed down the empty corridors as his destination got closer and closer. Muttering the password angrily, he entered the common room and stomped to his rooms, locking the door and vowing not to leave until he figured out how next to make Potter suffer.

----

It was hours later when the rest of Slytherin swarmed into the common room with whoops of joy and cries of victory. Draco didn't understand at first, why everyone was so happy when their team hadn't been playing. He sat up from his bed, still fully dressed, and pondered the outcome of the game. The Ravenclaws had to have been victorious seeing as the Slytherins would not have been celebrating a Gryffindor victory.

It was then that the door to the room slammed against the wall, revealing a very happy Blaise Zabini. His perfect, white teeth showed as he grinned spectacularly. Even with his dark complexion it was apparent that Blaise was flushed with happiness and, most likely, intoxication. Blaise, still having not said a word, dropped heavily onto Draco's bed and wrapped an arm around Draco's shoulders.

Draco could smell the alcohol on Blaise's clothes and breath, along with another smell that made Draco wrinkle his nose in disgust. He pushed the other boy away from him with a grimace, rubbing his robes to get the smell off. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" He shouted as he stood to brush off his robes.

Still grinning like a madman, Blaise let out a whoop of joy. "I have The Greatest News!" Blaise raised his fist in the air victoriously and dropped backward onto the bed, his long legs hanging off the edge.

Draco, as furious as he was that Blaise was dirtying is bedclothes, was more curious about what the so called 'greatest news' was. So, Draco sat as far away from Blaise as was possible and raised a silvery eyebrow. "And what, may I ask, is this great news?"

Blaise sat up so rapidly it made Draco dizzy to see him do it. "At this very moment, the Gryffindors are mourning." Blaise paused and giggled into his hand and waved his hands in the air. He was so distracted with his glee that he did not see the look of utter shock on Draco's face.

"Mourning?" Draco asked with an inaudible gulp. This wasn't sounding very good at all.

"Well, maybe not _mourning_." Blaise giggled again and continued after composing himself. "Our dear Harry Potter is in the Hospital Wing _again_. Nursing some very serious injuries, I might add." Blaise collapsed onto the bed once more and laughed.

A coldness engulfed Draco's body, starting with his stomach and rapidly ascending to his periphery. His fingers were cold and he felt dizzy. "What happened?" Draco urged as eagerly as he could manage. He was supposed to be happy about this news, he reminded himself.

"You should have been there! I don't know why you left but when you did, it was like all hell broke loose!" Blaise's hands moved rapidly as he proceeded to describe the events of the game, all leading up to the beating of Harry Potter.

Draco listened numbly as he envisioned the Bludgers bashing into Potter's body. His imagination went wild as he saw the events unfold within his mind. He could almost hear Potter's bones breaking and he saw as Potter's lifeless body fell to the ground after the assault. It was too terrible to continue listening. He blocked out Blaise's words and focused on the numb feeling that was rapidly swallowing him whole.

When Blaise finished and asked for Draco's opinion, Draco wasn't paying attention. Thankfully, Blaise mistook his silence for awe and patted him on the back. "Yeah, mate, I wish I'd have thought of it myself too." He patted him again and stood from the bed. "C'mon there's a party in the common room to celebrate."

Blaise left without him and he could hear the party from his room. He sat, numbly at the edge of the bed, picking at the emotion fluttering through his chest in the general area he thought his heart was. Distractedly, he put his hand over the area where the ache had formed. This dull pain, he thought, must be related to Potter. Was it disappointment from the fact that he'd not done the deed himself? Or was it something else entirely? Was it that, somehow, someway, he'd felt some sort of emotion for the Gryffindor?

He sat for a long while inspecting the emotions floating through his body. After a while of listening to drunken shouts and laughter he decided on what he was going to do. He stood up and removed his bulky robes. If he was going to be able to pull this off he'd have to get rid of the extra clothing. A shiver wracked his body and he thought about the coolness of the halls. He numbly moved toward his wardrobe and pulled out a dark green sweater his mother had sent to him recently. Pulling it over his head and fixing it so that he looked presentable, he looked into a mirror. He ignored the whistle and praises the mirror gave him and moved toward the door.

He was at once assaulted by an amplified version of the party he'd been listening to. Slytherins (and even some Ravenclaws) were all over the common room in a drunken haze. He hopped over drunken bodies and snogging partners as he made his way hastily to the portrait hole that led out of this chaos. He looked down as the toe of his shoe touched someone just in front of the exit to see Blaise Zabini giggling like mad on the floor, waving his drink in his hands.

Draco pushed the body out of his way and proceeded through the portrait-hole. He'd been completely ignored and he rather liked it that way. This way, he wasn't chased down by Slytherins wondering where he had been off to. There was no telling what was going to happen when he arrived at his destination so he felt safer knowing that those who would follow him now had the brain functions of a two year old.

He gingerly made his way toward the Hospital Wing, coming in contact only with a first year Hufflepuff who, when making eye contact with Draco, ran away with fright. Draco didn't even smirk or sneer at the Hufflepuff as he would have. Some indefinable force was pulling him faster and faster toward the place where Potter was.

It was after curfew and so Draco figured that none of the Gryffindors would be visiting him at this time. He knew for a fact that Pomfrey left the ward open during the night (so as to allow sick students easier entry) and so the problem didn't lie with getting in. Even as he created the plan in his head, he never thought about what he would actually say to Potter. The feeling that had engulfed him at the news of Potter's accident flared and his heart started beating so fast he clutched at his chest and leant against a wall for support.

"Bloody hell," he murmured to himself as he willed his heart to calm itself. He pushed off of the wall and moved onward to the door that would lead him to Potter. As he moved to push it open, the figure of Dumbledore appeared in the doorway. This random new appearance made Draco's heart leap for a whole different reason, this one fright.

"Mr. Malfoy." Dumbledore said in greeting, his eyes twinkling merrily as they seemed to be doing all the time.

"P-Professor." He cursed himself inwardly for stuttering like an idiot.

"Are you not feeling well?" The old wizard inquired with the most imperceptible of winks.

"Yes, as a matter of fact-" Draco began but was not able to continue as Dumbledore promptly opened the door wider and swept Draco into the room with a hand upon his shoulder.

"Poppy, I do believe young Mr. Malfoy is suffering from quite the upset stomach. Better keep him here overnight to see what the cause is." With that, Dumbledore turned around and swept from the room.

Draco stared after the retreating Headmaster in surprise. He hadn't said anything and if he didn't know any better, he'd think the man had known his reason for coming was not for an upset stomach but to visit a certain Gryffindor.

"Well, lets get you a stomach settling potion and a bed to stay in." Madame Pomfrey proceeded in guiding him to a bed at one end of the long room, clearly far away from the only other occupied bed. She handed him the potion in a small cup and Draco hesitated to drink it. Pomfrey stood with an air of impatience and nodded toward the cup, urging him to drink the potion.

"Could I get a glass of water to chase it down?" He asked as sincerely as he could.

Sighing slightly, the healer acquiesced to his request and went to get the water. While she was gone, Draco quickly looked for somewhere to get rid of the potion, settling for a pail next to his bed he'd assumed was for vomit or other such unpleasant things. He quickly pushed it under the bed and moved to sit on it once more. Just as he was settled she returned with his water. He grimaced for show and quickly drank the water, handing her both glasses and laying onto the bed, clutching his stomach gingerly.

"I'll close the curtains, dear, and you get some rest, hopefully you'll be better by morning." She turned in a whirl of skirts and was gone, the curtains closing themselves behind her.

Draco waited silently as he listened to her quickly fading footsteps. Wherever she spent the night, she was there, for he hadn't heard her movements for at least twenty seconds. Deeming it safe to get out of bed, he moved toward the shut curtains. Pulling them apart silently, he looked around for any signs of life. Everywhere was dark and the door to the ward was closed.

Draco silently made his way to the other side of the room where his target lay sleeping. He pulled the curtains apart enough to peer into the little space. On the bed, sleeping as if there were nothing at all wrong in the world was Harry Potter. Draco slipped between the curtains and sat at the chair pulled close to the bed. Sighing with silent relief at not being caught, Draco fixed storm gray eyes onto the man he'd been curious about.

This, he thought bitterly, is the boy that made his heart race when he saw him in the hallway, when they accidentally brushed shoulders, when he'd seen him dangling off his broom and hanging on for dear life.

Draco looked first at Harry's face, observing the relaxed expression with desire. He reached out pale fingertips to touch the dark eyebrows, the smooth, tanned skin and soft, almost pouting lips. When they quirked under his touch he moved, quick as lightning, away from the other boy. Suddenly, he was furious with himself. What was he doing?! He moved to get out of his seat, to leave and find a way to punish himself for ever believing for one second he'd begun to have feelings for Potter…

There it was. He'd finally acknowledged in his own mind that he was attracted to Potter.

Draco suppressed a groan of frustration and fury as he moved quietly to exit the space. The sound of Potter's voice startled him to a halt. "Malfoy?" Potter's voice was groggy with sleep. When Draco looked back at the once slumbering Gryffindor, he was relieved to see that his eyelids were still closed.

Draco sighed and took to watching the Gryffindor sleep once more. His heart was no longer aching but he was filled with another emotion he didn't have the desire nor the strength to identify quite yet. "Malfoy?" He heard again.

"Yes Potter?" He whispered in as characteristic a voice as he could manage.

"I don't…" Potter trailed off and his features scrunched up as he shifted on the bed. This seemed to cause him pain because he hissed and became stiff once more. His face still held the pinched expression and Draco sighed as he sat back down next to the healing Gryffindor Seeker. Draco's hand moved to touch Potter's own hand in what he hoped was a comforting gesture and was silently awed when Potter's face relaxed once more.

"What am I going to do with you, Potter?" Draco sighed as he rested his forehead against the mattress the boy was sleeping on. It was in this position, holding Harry's hand and laying on his mattress that Draco Malfoy fell asleep.

----

Harry groaned and raised one arm above his head in a stretch. He didn't know why he felt so especially rested this morning. Maybe it was the medicines that had made his night's rest the most peaceful he'd had in a long while. Not wanting to open his eyes quite yet, Harry listened around him for any signs of life.

It was quiet and still as far as he could hear. He surmised that he'd gotten up too early once again and mentally shrugged his shoulders. Harry suddenly became aware of warmth on his hand that was nowhere else on his body. He opened his eyes to investigate and held back an angry gasp.

There, next to him, was none other than Draco Malfoy. He looked at the slumbering Slytherin with silent rage and suspicion and looked down at his hand. Atop his left hand was Draco's pale one, resting warmly on his skin. The position was so innocent and so different that Harry almost did not want to move his hand.

He silently watched the Slytherin sleep. The pale morning light that drifted through a break in the curtain seemed to enhance the sleeping boy's features. His pale blond hair seemed a more vibrant gold and looked so soft that Harry's fingers twitched with the urge to stroke it from his face. Harry couldn't see the pale features beneath the hair, but he guessed that Malfoy was asleep from his position and heavy breathing.

Harry could not watch any more as something stirred within him that made him want to touch, kiss, caress and lick the skin of the boy beside him. It was wrong, Harry registered numbly and it was _Malfoy_ for Heaven's sake! Disgusted with himself, Harry pulled his hand none too gently from Malfoy's gentle grasp.

"Nngph," Malfoy groaned as his hand inched further into the bed, settling itself under Harry's thigh.

Harry hissed softly and moved his leg, now practically on fire with the touch. He frowned and tapped the slumbering boy on the head. "Wake up, Malfoy."

"Stop," the Slytherin whined as he half-heartedly batted Harry's hand away.

Harry quickly brushed aside all thoughts that had the words 'cute' and 'Malfoy' in the same sentence and resumed his poking. "Malfoy," he said through clenched teeth. His voice was colored with irritation and Malfoy apparently got the point because his head snapped up so quick it looked painful.

The look of shock on Malfoy's face was enough to keep Harry quiet and they engaged in a staring contest. Neither wanted to speak for fear of what the repercussions were. Draco's eyes were wide and his hand was on the back of his neck, which must have been sore from the position he'd slept in.

Harry moved to sit up and winced with the pain. His hands automatically moved to hold his abdomen in the futile hope that it would quell his pain. He was surprised when Draco's hand reached out and touched his shoulder, a look of worry apparent on his pale face.

Green eyes met grey and suddenly they were separating from each other as if they'd been burned by their connection. Harry was only slightly confused when Draco Malfoy left the hospital ward without another word. As a matter of fact, Harry realized as he watched Draco disappear, that the Slytherin hadn't said a word, let alone explained himself properly. He shook his head to clear his mind of the onslaught of questions that came to mind and focused on the pain in his abdomen.

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Author's Note: Originally, this was written in response to a challenge that was put up on the Hex Files and someone requested that I make it into a fic so, here I am! I've decided to share it with the crew, let me know if you like it! If you've got any reviews lying around, I'll take 'em off yer hands for ya! 


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